


trouble looks for me

by peachyteabuck



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Degradation, F/F, F/M, Spanking, Sub!Thor, brat taming, strap ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:34:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25319152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck
Summary: valkyrie has no choice but to break a promise, so you have no choice but to misbehave. thor, well, he’s just along for the ride.
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Thor/Reader (Marvel)
Kudos: 16





	trouble looks for me

It starts at the restaurant. Valkyrie had been working non-stop to fit in everything she had needed before the end of the fiscal year, leaving you and Thor with her for weeks on end.

In combination with Valkyrie’s strict rules, this also meant you and Thor had touched each other, let alone made each other _cum_ since…Oh god, you can’t even remember…

You’d both gotten a text from her that day, telling you to get ready for a fancy dinner and that she would pick you up at precisely seven.

That left you with five hours to get ready which, to some may have been a lot, but for you…

As with most men, Thor doesn’t take long to get ready – even if it took him a solid forty-five minutes to choose the correct pair of panties (he settles on a baby pink pair with a small, white bow. By the time he was tucking his pristine white shirt into them, you were just finishing up your eyebrows and foundation – let alone had you picked your outfit.

You had narrowed it down to three dresses – a deep blue, thigh-length long-sleeved one with a deep V-neck and makes your legs look superb, a little black dress with tiny straps that leave nothing to the imagination, or a baby pink, floor-length gown with a fitted top that shows off your shoulders and tits and whose skirt flows behind you just as waves recede from a beach at dusk.

(It doesn’t take you long to choose that last one, to say the least. _Plus,_ it matches Thor’s panties. How _couldn’t_ you choose that dress! How!?)

You gingerly place it on the bed as you go back to your bright vanity, placing your numerous eyeshadow pallets and lipstick choices in front of you so you have an accurate view of your make up-related choices for the night. You’ve done looks like this before, played the cute, coy girl many times. Still, you like to make sure everything is _perfect_ – the eyeliner and the eye shadow and your brows and your lips and your highlighter. It _all_ has to be perfectly placed on your face to ensure maximum balance between “totally gorgeous” and “totally fuckable.”

It was ten minutes to the approximate time Val had said she’d pick you up when you’re notified of what could possibly be the worst news ever.

_Hey loves, so sorry but a colleague needs some more convincing on a budget proposal. He’ll be joining us tonight for dinner._

You groan loudly, but immediately cease when you receive another text.

 _That means you both need to be on your best behavior_.

You smirk as you go back to adjusting the bracelet Val had gotten you during your vacation to Boca last year. No matter what, no matter who joined you and your lovers, tonight was going to be _fun_ , and whether or not this a blew back in your face was not a problem.

Well, at least not _your_ problem, and at least not _now._

You finish getting ready with the fire of vengeance deep in your stomach, jaw set and eyes narrowed as you get the text from Valkyrie saying she was outside waiting with your dishonorable guest (your words, not hers).

You greeted the older man with a curt nod bordering on polite. Luckily, he pays more attention to Thor, moving to shake his hand despite the award angle.

If it were any other context you’d spit in his face, make a passive aggressive comment, _something_ more than all but ignore him as you cross your arms and slump against the fancy leather seating with a small huff. Either Valkyrie pretends not to notice, or she’s too busy allowing Thor to work his patented charms to watch your every move.

Either way, it makes your sour mood _that_ much worse.

The car ride is long, meant originally so that Val could tease you and Thor while she drove (and because all of the closer restaurants may or may not have you banned for life, but that feels like an unimportant detail as you huff and pout in the back of the car). The ride, one you fully expected to be electrifying and fun and full of very unsubtle teasing, is mind-numbingly boring. Valkyrie and the Mystery Man are talking about numbers and other things you don’t care about, the former obviously trying to keep her cool as a man who thinks he knows more than her attempts to explain something she has a master’s degree in. You’re sure that if she could channel you during a particularly bad day to scream and claw at him she would, but no. She’s a professional woman at the top of her field attempting to expertly yield power. For Valkyrie, there is no lashing out; there is no way to regain control once she loses it.

Part of you respects her immensely for this: you acutely know what it’s like to be belittled and demeaned by people who should know better. She’s a bisexual woman of color in a predominately white, male field. Her job is hard, dealing with the men she works with harder. You and Thor listen diligently to her post-work day rants and desire for revenge, help her destress in any number of ways. This part of you wants to snap his neck so he never bothers her again, taking your rightful place as the devil forever keeping watch over her shoulder.

The other part of you wants to snap his neck so that he _would leave you and your lovers the fuck alone._ Is it too much to ask that you have a nice dinner with Valkyrie and Thor – a dinner where the only thing that could mess with the night’s activities is you!?

As you listen to the man explain what a “tight job market” is again, you wish you could bang your head against the tinted, bulletproof glass so hard you would pass out.

 _Yes._ You think. _Yes, it is **much**_ _too much to ask_.

It’s not even thirty seconds later when you get the most _magnificent_ idea. Thor’s not paying attention to you, either, watching the world pass by outside as he thinks about…whatever it is runs through his mind when he’s trying to block out people’s voices.

You wait for the conversation to become loud and thick with tension to strike – knowing neither of the people in the front seat will be paying much attention to whatever it is will happen between you and him. When the time is right, you run your hand over his clothed cock, skin alive with electricity as you feel it twitch.

“You shouldn’t tease me like that,” he hisses low in your ear. “It’ll get you in trouble.”

You just smiled, painted lips twisting into a faux pout and big eyes widening purposefully. “You promise?”

You continue to tease him, sneaking your hand into his pants just to hear his breath hitch. You lean once more, just as your fingers brush over his lace-covered cock.

“I’m getting wet just thinking about you,” you whisper. “Thinking about you coming in your pants before this fancy dinner.”

“If you do that, I’ll cum,” Thor growls lowly, desperate to keep it from Val’s ears.

You smile just as before, leaning close so your perfectly painted lips touch the shell of his ear. “Is that a dare?”

He narrows his eyes at you, trying to remain subtle as Val and the unexpected guest talk about break evens, or something equally boring.

“Seriously, you could get in trouble if you keep doing that!” he whispers, voice pointed.

You just look at him, eyes ablaze with mischief. “Oh, so it’s a _challenge_.”

Thor just glares at you before turning to look back outside, biting his lip and trying to find a distraction as your hands go down his pants. “Does it make you hard,” you whisper back. “knowing I could do anything I want to you right now? Does is make you hard knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop me?”

Thor’s jaw tenses, but he says nothing back.

“C’mon,” you tease. “Don’t you want to have a little fun with me?”

He shakes his head but says nothing. You huff, baring your teeth a little while you stare daggers into him.

Thor only speaks when Valkyrie’s tone becomes pointed once more, easily covering his own voice. “S-she’ll catch us!” he hisses.

You roll your eyes, fully aware there’s no way either of the people he’s talking about how any interest in either of you. They’re both stubborn, bullheaded, determined to win whatever standoff is happening between the two of them. To consider that they would just turn around to check on you or Thor is ridiculous, to say the least.

There’s no reason they’d look back and see you with one hand down Thor’s pants, the other spread across his thigh; there’s no chance they’d see his eyes screwed shut and his lips barely parted or your wicked grin.

Still, you fun is cut short when the restaurant pulls into view, making you wretch yourself away from Thor while he tucked himself back into his pants and tried to calm the deep blush that had spread across his face. It’s useless, though, because as Valkyrie hands the keys to the valet neither she nor the unwanted guest take a single look at you. 

You roll your eyes as you’re seated at a rounded table in a far corner of the restaurant, you and Thor on one side with Valkyrie and her colleague on the other.

It’s annoying, so _annoying_. Watching her pay attention to that _man_ , that fucking _colleague_ instead of you. She promised – she promised! – that all of it would be over, that her deadline and goals were going to be met and done and finished and she’d put away her work life for _one night_ to pay attention to you!

(And Thor. But whatever.)

She and the… _male…_ are talking in that tone you recognize from those mind-numbing political dramas Val loves so much. It’s nice, courteous, but fake enough to be sold on Canal Street and threatening enough that it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up straight.

Needless to say, you don’t like it very much, don’t like it very much at _all_. You have this indescribable urge to use your perfectly done, almond shaped matte nails to claw into his face – marking him for all to see how easily he was taken down by little ole you.

A similar itty bitty voice wants to fake a medical emergency and order an UberX and to get as far away from him as possible and then fake a slightly more extreme medical emergency every other time you are forced to be around him. There’s just something… _slimey_ about him that you can’t place, like cooked chicken that’s gone bad. It makes you wrinkle your nose each time you have the misfortune of catching him in your eyeline. Thor notices, his face softening as he takes a drink from his glass of ice water.

“You see it, too?” he asks, ducking his head low so to remain unheard by the slimeball in question.

You wrinkle your nose, angling your neck back to whisper in his ear. “I can _feel_ it.”

Thor lets out a small snort before turning back to his first course. You don’t know what he ordered, and don’t care to pick at what Val ordered for you. It becomes obvious halfway through Val’s salad that neither of them – neither of the high powered people in front of you – are paying you any mind. The coworker asks Thor what he does for a living and he’s given the usual lie, that Thor’s a grad student. He doesn’t ask you anything, only giving you a once over before licking his lips and taking a long drink of his expensive red wine.

If you ever wanted to kill someone, right then was the peak of those urges.

It doesn’t take long for you to become a tad more comfortable, a tad of tenseness falling from your shoulders. Almost worse than being uncomfortable, you had become _bored_. And that, simply, will not do.

The easiest target, Thor, remains unphased by your change in demeanor – either not noticing or choosing not to react. It doesn’t matter his reasoning, you know he’s simple, uncomplicated prey. If the years you’ve known him hadn’t proved that, the _incident_ in the car certainly did.

The next hour or so passes in a blur, the man leaving just before dessert; citing some work emergency or needing to get back to his wife and kids or something else you don’t care to pay attention to (though you do notice he doesn’t offer to pay his portion of the check. Even Valkyrie seems annoyed about that). He’s waved away with a curt goodbye, tense words of rehearsed professionalism exchanged as he waits for his UberX to arrive. It’s uncomfortable to say the least, and you silently rejoice when he finally exits the building.

The second he’s out of sight, though, you’re grabbed by the back of your neck and dragged so your nose touches Val’s.

 _“You’re fucking kidding me, right?”_ she hisses, teeth bared and jaw tense.

You’re stunned by the action, but not enough to not give her a small, wicked smile along with a small, _“no_.”

Just as Valkyrie’s about to retaliate, the waiter comes around the corner to deliver the dessert menu. She lets go of you immediately, pretending (just as the scrawny waiter is) that no one witnessed the interaction as the waiter begins to rattle off the night’s specials. The three of you choose something different with the same fake smile plastered over your face, one that drops the second he returns to…wherever it is waiters and waitresses go once they’re done talking to customers.

Val turns to you once more, grabbing your knee through the fabric of your dress – _a warning_. “Just you _fucking_ wait until we get home. If you keep being a brat, you’ll regret it.”

You don’t respond, instead taking a sip of your ice water in a cup that’s one step down from a wine glass. You’re exactly where you want to be, why would you apologize, try to walk back your actions or plead for forgiveness? Now that Valkyrie was giving you the attention you were playing for, there was nothing you felt the need to explain.

The rest of the meal is nice, easy – you all ordered different desserts and pass spoonfuls of each dish between the three of you. It’s nice and sweet, a direct contrast to the sharpness Val had demonstrated just minute before. All three of you continue in your happy little bubble all the way home, cute and smiling and confusing the old heterosexual couples in the restaurant as you sit and leave together.

It all melts away, though, when you get inside the house.

The second you cross the threshold; Val grabs you by the arm and pulls you close to her. You yelp, more in surprise than pain – either way, she ignores you.

“Get your ass in the bedroom and stand at your place, facing the corner, while I wait for you,” she hisses, teeth barred. You whimper when she pushes you away, stumbling up the steps as you scutter off. You fear if you stay or so much as _mumble_ a dissent, she’ll issue a much harsher punishment than the one she’s already planning. Given the anger in her face, you shudder at the thought.

Thor remains just inside the door, hands at his side and awaiting instruction.

Val only turns to him when you were out of sight. He stands there, cock hardening once more in his dress pants while her eyes bear into his.

One of her hands goes to cup his cheek, thumbing over his light stubble. “How are you so well-behaved and she’s like _that_?”

Thor just gives a small shrug before following the woman he loves up the stairs, trailing behind her as she navigates the prime wood floors despite her high heels and sour mood.

When she arrives in the room she exhales slowly through her nose, not necessarily _happy_ to find you in the place she specified – but at least she hasn’t been disappointed once more tonight.

“Turn around,” she instructs you. You huff and cross your arms over your chest but do as you’re told. “Now, watch what could happen to you if you _chose_ to behave.”

Valkyrie goes to unlock the special drawer at the top of her custom dresser, the solid gold key held on an anklet she wears all day every day. From it she takes Thor’s special collar – the deep blue one with solid white trimmings and _PROPERTY OF BRUNNHILDE_ engraved into a small placard that rests in the center.

Thor accepts the mark of ownership[ with ease and it makes you want to roll your eyes. He’s always one to give in easy, who lives to be dominated. At the first sign of Valkyrie’s dominance, he opens his mouth eagerly for a gag, wiggles his ass for spankings, tilts his neck back to be choked. It’s _pathetic_ , and Val loves it.

“Aw, I’ve barely touched you,” she smiles. “Why are you already opening your mouth, you needy thing.”

Thor just whines high in his throat, pleading up at her as he keeps his position on the floor. He wasn’t asked a question so he can’t respond, can’t _speak_ – all he can do is sit there and hope she takes pity on him and gives him whatever it is he wants, _needs_.

For now, though, she’s got something more pressing to deal with. She sighs before turning to you in the corner, your nose pressed where the two white walls meet with arms at your side. Below your feet is a light pink mat demarking where you are supposed to be, where Val makes sure you stay when you’re waiting to be punished. If you had done something _less_ bad you might have been able to face outward, but no. Not only had you behaved _incredibly_ poorly, you had dragged Thor into your pitiful little game.

Thor – Val’s _golden boy._ He’s the apple of her eye, the sun after a storm. Thor’s always good, always _perfect_ ; always follows rules and does the right thing and never, _ever_ talks back. He’s always her first pick as a plus-one for parties because he’s so wonderful and charming and can make any man or woman or _pet_ fall head over heels for him. He’s like a fucking _golden retriever_ and you _hate him for it_.

The worst part about that special, untouched crystal tchotchke of a man is that you’re _never_ allowed touch him, to smudge him with the oil that pools on the pads of your fingers. Each time you see him – all shiny and new like a Tiffany bracelet just out of the packaging – you feel like a child dragged to a fancy art museum, forced to keep her hands in her pockets as adults gaze at timeless works of art.

It _infuriates you_ , and she knows that.

Valkyrie pushes you down to the ground, teeth barred. “Get on your knees and keep your hands behind you, you stupid slut.”

You do as you’re told, bratty façade breaking away.

“Aw, look,” Valkyrie coos to Thor, sarcasm dripping from each word. “Our dumb little whore _can_ follow directions! Isn’t that surprising?”

Thor, always one to follow directions, says nothing in return.

Valkyrie _hmms_ happily at his obedience before turning back to you.

“Are you nervous, baby girl?” she asks. You nod slightly. “You should be. You’ve been a _very bad_ little slut.”

Silently, one hand moves to cradle one side of your jaw, while the other pulls back just to land on your cheek in a sharp _SLAP!_

You cry out at the sharp pain but still squeeze your thighs together to quell the deep heat in your center.

Valkyrie laughs, lips forming into a sneer. “Just a little pain is getting that little pussy wet, isn’t it?”

Your mouth goes off faster than your brain can process. “I’m still turned on from fucking with your baby boy in the restaurant bathroom.”

_SMACK!_

Valkyrie slaps the other cheek, speaking over your cries of pain. “If I hit harder, will you be a good girl?”

You cower, too terrified to respond.

“Hm…” Valkyrie hums, unimpressed. “Do you like being punished?” she asks, looking down at you with har arms crossed.

You shake your head.

Val just smirks. “So if I checked right now, you wouldn’t be wet?”

You gulp and cast your eyes downward. Still, she continues.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” she spits. “Do you even know why?”

She doesn’t wait for a nonresponse before continuing.

“It’s because deep down you’re just waiting for someone to put you in your fucking place.”

You gulp, but don’t deny it.

“Stand up,” Val hisses, watching as you struggle to get to your feet. As soon as you’re back on your feet she strips you, taking off your dress and then your shoes, leaving you in your lingerie.

_Doesn’t even take the time to notice you matching Thor…she really **is** pissed._

“Spoiled little slut,” Valkyrie hisses. “You just need someone with a firm hand to teach you a fuckin’ lesson, don’t you?”

You swallow, petrified. “I’m sorry.”

Val raises a single eyebrow, but keeps her arms folded. _A small victory._ “You’re sorry?”

You nod. “Yes.”

She narrows her eyes. “Sorry what?”

“Sorry-“you hesitate, terrified of saying the wrong thing.

“Daddy,” Valkyrie instructs.

“Sorry, Daddy,” you mumble.

She narrows her eyes once more and you scramble to correct your mistake.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say, straightening your back to enable you to look her dead in the eyes. “I’m sorry for being bad, Daddy.”

Valkyrie just _hmms_ , tapping her foot against the hardwood floor. “You know that alone isn’t going to convince me to forgive you, right?”

You cower away from her, shaking your head. “No, Daddy.”

“Well,” she sighs, looking to Thor – who just gives her a light shrug, just as before. _Like most men, he never knows what to do with you._ “I’ll just have to take you over my knee, won’t I?”

You gulp. _Over the knee always lead to something more – something **worse**. _You’re terrified to find out what that might be.

Val sits herself on the bed, gesturing for you to lay yourself across her thighs. You give her a sneer but do as you’re told, laying your naked body across her legs as you wait for your punishment to officially commence.

She runs her perfectly manicured nails over the supple skin of your ass and back, watching as goosebumps form and a shiver runs up your spine. One hand rests on the back of your neck, holding you in place, while the other ghosts over your center.

When you whine, harsh slaps are laid against your ass, at least ten in quick succession. She ignores your cries as she yanks your head back by your hair as she sneers.

“You brats just love trying to get under my skin, but the moment _I_ tease _you_ , suddenly I’m the bad guy?” Valkyrie laughs while staring down at you. “Don’t act like you’re not getting exactly what you wanted, baby.”

For the first time that night, you bite your tongue and stay quiet.

“So now she wants to listen,” Val smirks. “Now the little brat wants to shut her filthy whore mouth and open her little ears.”

You whimper, curling into her as she continues to spank you until your ass is burning. Tears are threatening to fall from the corners of your eyes when she stops, pushing you off of her and back onto the floor.

“Enough punishment for you,” Val says, turning back to Thor. “I’m gonna focus my attention on someone who actually _deserves_ it.”

The man in question remains in position across the room – him leaning on his heels with hands palm-down on his deliciously thick, bare thighs.

 _Fuck, what you wouldn’t do to ride him_.

Valkyrie cups his scruffy cheeks with one hand, the other moving to run through his perfectly tussled hair.

“You wanna be my good little whore?” she asks, gazing down at his wide eyes.

Thor licks his lips, nearly jumping out of his skin with his red cock bouncing against his stomach. “Yes, Daddy. I want to be your good little whore.”

“And you’re going to be a good boy and do as you’re told. Aren’t you?” she asks, smiling as she watches him fight back a moan.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Valkyrie smiles, cooing. “See? It’s not that hard to be good, is it?” She lets out a faux sigh, tutting. “I don’t understand why some sluts just can’t get it into their dumb little brains that it’s better to behave.”

Neither of you say anything, the silence heavy; you have nothing to say, no retort at the tip of your tongue. Your whole being is zero-d in on Val as she instructs Thor to shed her of her black, lace panties – but not before making him leave a kiss there.

“You’re going to eat me out,” she says, backing up against the wall. “But remember, you’re not allowed to touch me unless I tell you. And _good_ little whores do as they’re told, isn’t that right?”

You can see Thor swallow around his heavy tongue, eyes blown with lust. “Yes, Daddy. Good little whores follow instructions.”

Valkyrie just smiles. “Good boy. You may begin.”

Thor dives between her thighs without hesitation, Valkyrie moaning unabashedly as he licks at her clit, drinking her juices like nectar from a forbidden fruit.

“Is it turning you on?” Valkyrie laughs as you whine from your place across the room. “Watching my boy eat me out against a wall?”

You gulp and nod best you can, desperate to please.

“Good girls don’t like this kind of stuff,” she says, lips curled into a fake smile. “But you’re not a good girl, are you?”

You’re nearly shaking as she moans, pressing her center further against his face.

As soon as he’s given permission Thor throws one of her legs over his shoulder as he spreads her folds with one hand and grips her hip with the other.

“Aren’t you a good little slut,” Val murmurs, pushing Thor’s hair from his face.

He moans, eyes screwed shut. His hand leaves her hip to push one, two fingers into her. “Yes, Daddy, I’m _your_ slut.”

Val’s own screams are broken, loud – he’s excellent with his hands and finds that spot inside of her easily, coaxing her to her peak with ease. As she comes down from her high, panting, Thor looks up from her legs, silently begging for praise with glazed-over eyes.

She grants it to him when she catches her breath, rewarding him with sweet low words that melt like butter on Thor’s golden skin.

“Such a pretty boy for me, aren’t you?” she coos. “So well-behaved for your Daddy, so good at following instructions and making Daddy feel good.”

You growl silently from your place on the floor as praises fall easily from her lips, wishing you could get that same treatment. You know you don’t deserve it, especially after the stunt (or _stunts)_ you pulled tonight. Still, you wish _you_ were the one on your knees, being coddled by Valkyrie as you gave her as much pleasure as she could ever want.

Val clears her throat one last time before speaking again, legs still a little shaky. “Now, I’m going to tie you up so you can sit there, dripping, while I give my _good_ boy whatever he wants,” she tells you, getting out the rope.

You whimper as Thor moans loudly, holding your wrists out obediently as she walks over to you.

There are times you want to push and push – but the threat of being tied up and discarded into a corner while _Thor_ gets all the glory _while_ you’re denied or punished (or both) further whips you right into shape. Somehow you had missed stopping at the edge, had jumped off the cliff with no parachute. So you accept your fate, wait as Val bends down to tie your wrists.

“It’s a little too tight,” you whine, flexing your hands.

“I know,” she tells you plainly. “I don’t want you running off like _last time_.”

By “last time” she meant one of the first times she had ever tried rope play (not only with you, but in her life). As many inexperienced riggers have undergone, she looked up mid-orgasm to find that you had wriggled your way out of your bounds and were able to get yourself off. She was mad at you, of course – wouldn’t let you live it down despite how long it had been since that night.

She was mad at herself, too, though. Valkyrie is not a woman who enjoys feeling as if she has failed, especially when it comes to you and Thor. The sight of you writhing freely on the plush carpet in pleasure instead of tightly wound while a vibrator was placed _just_ out of reach was something Val had thought about for _weeks_ before she had found a night with enough time for the precise execution she felt necessary.

_All three of you were sitting on the floor of the bedroom. She had Thor hold you as she followed the instructions she had memorized, eyes trained on the rope as she weaved intricate, functional patterns over your skin while she tied a vibrator in place. You struggled the whole time, but Valkyrie didn’t mind. She liked it quite a lot, actually – always revels in how your will to fight never ceases but your ability slowly surrenders to whatever bonds or complex mental game she had set for you._

_She was fucking Thor with the new dildo she’d bought for his birthday when she heard something she knew she shouldn’t: you, moaning. Not whimpering, not whining, but **moaning**. Without regard to how Thor felt about the matter she pulled out so she could see why you were making noises associated with unfettered pleasure instead of merciless teasing._

_She found you, fucking yourself against the vibrator with eyes rolled to the back of your head._

Valkyrie shudders at the thought, at failing once more. For her, falling short has never been an option – in academics, in her professional life, and, now, with you.

So she checks the ropes, then rechecks them, before leaving you on the floor alone once more, allowing her to return to her other, more obedient lover with the security of knowing your arms and legs are bound.

Thor watches the woman’s every move, still on the floor but holding infinitely more freedom than you do. His eyes are glued to her form, watching her like trapped prey watches a predator as it awaits its impending death.

Then again, is Thor prey? Is he the one tied up, awaiting judgement day? Or is he the sweet little pet of some apex predator who sees the ocean floor she prowls as a playground.

“What do you want, baby boy?” Valkyie asks, trailing her perfectly painted almond-shaped nails against his chiseled chest.

Thor gulps before answering. “I, I want you to ride me, Daddy.”

Without further discussion, Val grabs him by the collar and pushes him onto the bed, practically devouring him as her lips meet his. When she pulls away Thor chases her – and is met with Valkyrie’s firm hand pressing him back onto the sheets he had changed that morning.

You can see his eyes – the helpless, dazed that washes over his face as he realizes his pinned to the sheets.

“You want me to _ride_ you, baby boy?” she purrs, teasing him.

Thor nods and stutters out a small “ _please_ ,” pulling his head back to expose his neck.

Valkyrie just chuckles, moving to bite bruises into the tender skin there, still avoiding the place he wants her the most.

The man under her moans lewdly, fingers digging into the sheets with knuckles going white.

Valkyrie lets out a small laugh when she moves away – finally able to take in the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen. This is that art piece in that museum you were bemoaning earlier, the thing she made sure you’d never damage.

When she aligns his aching cock with her center you nearly explode, desperately wishing you could be riding Thor’s face or groping Val’s tits or _something_ that isn’t you being unable to touch either of them.

The ache between your legs only worsens as you watch Val grind her hips, as you watch Thor’s large hands grab everywhere he can.

“You want to come inside me?” she asks, breathless as she fucks herself onto your shared lover’s cock. “You want to eat your cum from inside my pretty pussy?”

Thor groans, eyes screwed shut. “P-please, please I want to-“

“ _Shh_ ,” she coos, “It’s okay, baby boy. It’s okay, just do what you wish. This is your reward.”

Thor nods, whispering a slurred “thank you” before fucking into her harder, using everything he can find inside himself to chase the ultimate pleasure.

“C’mon baby,” Val coos. She’s close, you can tell by her strained voice and _God_ all you want is to be up there, kissing her or rubbing her clit or doing _anything_ to help her feel pleasure.

But no – you just have to watch as her stomach contracts and Thor whines at the feeling of her orgasming pussy on his close cock, babbling as he comes with a deep groan; his whole body tensing as his eyes screw shut and mouth hangs open. Even from your shitty angle on the floor you can tell how beautiful he looks, how beautiful they _both_ look as they come together. You’re both jealous and remarkably happy – wishing you could be up there with them but thankful you’re so much as allowed to watch the other two people in your relationship.

It doesn’t take long for them both to dissolve into an overstimulated puddle, each of them trying to catch their breaths as you await the next stage of your seemingly-never ending punishment. It comes after what feels like forever, when Val nudges him to move over.

Thor lets out a frustrated groan but rolls over, leaving room for what the woman on top of him plans to do next.

Valkyrie moves to grab a toy and its matching harness from its special drawer in the walk-in closet, where each dildo is arranged in ascending order by size and girth with the harnesses. It was one of the chores Thor was made to do the morning after along with changing the sheets and restocking the water/snack minifridge that remained in arms reach of the bed. Valkyrie prefers a tidy home, one where she knows where everything is because everything is in its place.

Being the hurricane of a woman that you are, though, these moments of bliss are minuscule and fleeting – days full of shopping for clothes and trying dessert recipes you’d found online and annoying Thor by moving things _just_ out of place.

It’s one of those little things you do that drives Val insane, one of the things that drives her to fuck you as hard as she currently wants to.

When she’s got the toy snug against her skin she stalks over to your place on the bed. You’re forced onto your back, knees forced to your chest to allow the woman on top of you easy access to your dripping center.

“Aw,” Val laughs. “You get so wet for me, don’t you?”

You nod, trying to give her your best innocent doe eyes. “Y-yes Daddy.”

Her smile reaches her temples as she enters you at an achingly slow pace, keeping you bent in half as she watches your face like an eagle watches a muskrat, as she watches your eyes roll to back of your head and you whine for more. “I know exactly what you want, princess. Know exactly what you _need-“_

She grunts as she begins to fuck into you harder, reveling in the sounds of your dripping pussy each time the toy bottoms out. It’s loud and pornographic, mirroring the depth of your moans.

“I-I-“ you stutter. “D-Daddy p-please!”

Val just smirks, reaching one hand out so she can snap to grab Thor’s attention. With no words exchanged between the two of them, he grabs the large cordless vibrator and switches it to the highest setting before handing it off.

Even if they were speaking, the screams that erupted from you as the toy was pressed to the most sensitive part of you would drown them out. Your loud babbling and the tears flowing from your face only push Val to fuck you harder, not letting up even as you squirt once, _twice_ onto the covers – soaking the bed and your thighs and Val’s toy and _her_ thighs and probably the mattress. She only pulls out when you beg in the broken voice she loves so much, when you finally give into her demands and apologize.

“I-I-“ you whimper, some last part of you holding out. Val knows this, knows she just as to wait one more moment before you’ll finally give in.

Still, she gives you a little nudge off the edge of the cliff. “C’mon love,” she murmurs into the sweaty skin between your shoulder blades. The contact makes you shudder, and she knows she’s got you right where she wants you. “It’s okay, just tell me what’s on your mind.”

You swallow what little spit is left in your dry mouth as you desperately attempt to speak clearly. “I, I’m sorry, Daddy.”

She smiles wide, kissing your temple. “I forgive you.”

You lay there, twitching, as Val pulls out the thick toy from your dripping center. Somehow you find it in you to choke at the empty feeling, to reach a hand out in a pathetic attempt to bring her body back to yours. It doesn’t work – Valkyrie has to put the toy in the bathroom for Thor to clean later and needs to grab water and a snack for the both of you. Still, you make small, sad noises as she walks from your shaky line of sight.

Thor does his best to comfort you, draws a lazy hand across your sweaty stomach and draws random patterns on your bare thighs. “She’ll be back soon,” he tells you breathily. You know he’s right – Val always returns back to you whether she’s traveling to the kitchen or Dubai. That doesn’t make it any easier to hear the patter of her footsteps become quieter as she leaves, though.

It feels like an eternity when she returns, holding a tray with a pitcher of ice water, cups, forks, slices of strawberry-vanilla cake Thor had made after you requested it oh-so-sweetly a day prior, had given him puppy eyes and jutted your bottom lip out. Val places the tray on the floor in front of you and him, pulling you into her lap as you two eat in silence. Only occasionally does she steal a bite from either of you, leaving kisses on random bits of skin while telling you how good you two did, how proud she is of both of you.

When you’re both finished Val puts it all aside on her nightstand, allowing you and Thor to lay down with her.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me next time?” Val asks as you snuggle into her side. Thor wraps himself around you, large body warming yours. His arms, thick as your head, are long enough rest on Valkyrie’s hips.

You leave a kiss on her bare ribs, smiling. “Not a chance.”


End file.
